


A Slice of Heaven

by queenhomeslice



Series: That’s it! I’ve come up with a new romance!: Ignis/Reader Stories [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Chubby Reader, Crownsguard Training, Curvy Reader, F/M, Flirting, Implied Sexual Content, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, fat reader, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24277270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Training with Ignis gets heated
Relationships: Ignis Scientia/Reader
Series: That’s it! I’ve come up with a new romance!: Ignis/Reader Stories [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1686343
Comments: 14
Kudos: 85





	A Slice of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

“Now then,” says Ignis as he glides into the training room, nonchalantly flipping one of his daggers in his right hand. 

You swallow hard. The action _looks_ careless, but you know that beneath every flip-and-catch is years’ worth of practiced precision. Ignis’ daggers are sharp enough to split a single hair, and just the simple act of watching him turn it over and over in one hand is enough to get your blood pumping. 

It doesn’t help that Ignis is dressed in slim athletic pants—not skin-tight, but form-fitting enough to let your imagination run wild—and a gray tank top, putting his arms and shoulders on display. You subconsciously lick your lips as he approaches you—the man’s build looks slotted together by the Astrals themselves. Ignis is six feet of stacked, lean muscle, with piercing green eyes hidden behind silver-rimmed glasses. His sandy blond hair is down, side-swept across his forehead. He’s a dream, honestly, and you can’t help but have a massive crush on the man. 

“Now then,” he says, lilted Tenebraen accent smooth as silk. “Shall we begin?” 

It’s like the gods decided to torture you specifically by having Ignis be your private tutor for knife-throwing lessons. You nod, sizing him up. “Yep,” you say, voice a little wrecked just by looking at him. You’d been having these lessons with him for almost a month—they are your favorite part of Crownsguard training. You're better with magic than anything else, but Ignis saw potential in you, claiming that having another ranged fighter would balance out the party better. With Noct’s agreement and permission, you began to learn the art of throwing under Ignis’ tutelage. 

You’d dressed in your usual training attire—fitted black leggings and a loose athletic shirt, and sneakers. Your short hair is settled into a cloth headband in order to keep it out of your face. Ignis stops in front of you, looks down, and smiles, catching his dagger without looking (for the umpteenth time). 

“Summon your weapon and assume the position we practiced.” 

You nod and close your eyes, concentrating on the link to Noct’s Armiger, summoning the heavy steel dagger into your right hand. You relax your body and stand up straight, giving your shoulders and neck a few rolls to further loosen up. Your place your right foot slightly more forward than your left foot, and make sure to keep your thumb on top of your other fingers on the handle of the dagger, careful to keep your fingertips away from the blade. You inhale and exhale deeply, focusing on the red-ringed training dummy that is several yards away. 

Lifting your arm, you lurch forward a little and release the dagger. 

It’s not a perfect bullseye in the dead center of the dummy’s painted heart, but it’s within the second ring that’s printed on his head, which is better than nothing. You dissolve the dagger and re-summon it in your hand, turning to look at Ignis. 

His arms are crossed over his broad chest, and his expression is neutral. “Were you aiming for the head?” 

You sigh. “No. The heart.” 

“Then why did you hit the head?” 

“I...I don’t know? Stance was off, maybe, uh...” Your voice trails. It’s a nightmare, to be embarrassed in front of picture-perfect Ignis. You feel your cheeks heat up as you get back into position, trying to go over every little step in your head so that you can get it right. 

Before you can throw your dagger, you feel Ignis’ strong body close behind you. His strong hands are at your waist and thighs, turning and positioning your body better; then moving along your arms and rotating your elbow; then covering your bare hand with his own, long fingers dancing across your chubby ones, moving them here and there. 

“You think you’re relaxed, but you’re actually quite tense,” Ignis purrs low in your ear, head hovering just above your shoulder. 

You can’t help but break out into goosebumps as his words fill your personal space. “Sorry,” you whisper. 

“You’ve improved a lot—I am proud of you, make no mistake. But happy accidents will not do in the line of service to his Highness.” 

You exhale slowly and nod. Ignis is right—your aim must be intentional, striking true to the mark _every_ time. But oh, if only Ignis knew how Cupid’s arrow had pierced your heart, as deadly as any dagger he’d trained you to throw. You close your eyes, step back—Ignis moves in tandem with you, keeping his body close behind yours, keeping you in line—and let the dagger fly from your hand. 

“Well done,” Ignis whispers. 

You open your eyes—and the dagger is lodged in the chest of the dummy, smack dab in the middle of the heart. “Oh,” you say, breathless. “I got it.” 

“Mmmm,” says Ignis, nodding. “Perfection. Now. I’m going to step away. Repeat it.” 

You gulp and nod, immediately missing the warmth on your back as Ignis backs away. Summoning the dagger from the training dummy, you make your stance, grip the dagger, turn your waist, and-- 

“Bullseye again,” says Ignis proudly. “Once more.” 

Your training continues like that for another two hours, until your chubby arms feel like Jello and your palms have temporary calluses on them. You let the dagger dissipate from the training dummy one last time and turn to Ignis, eyes heavy with fatigue. 

“Ignis,” you whine. “I can’t anymore. No more today.” 

“Hm,” says Ignis, tapping his chin thoughtfully. 

How in the hell does he make such a simple gesture look so sexy? It isn’t fair. 

“Deal, but only if you’ll agree to accompany me to dinner,” he finishes. 

_Record scratch, freeze frame—sorry, ____________.exe has encountered a problem and has manually shut down. The program is not responding. Error 404._ “Uh,” you choke out, staring at his face, searching for a sign of jest. “I, uh. Dinner?” 

Ignis smiles wide and beautiful, nodding. “Unless you have other plans?” 

You furiously shake your head. “Uh, no, no, definitely not, no other plans, I, uh...” You exhale and squint your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You. Dinner. With _me._ Are you sure?” 

“Quite sure,” says Ignis. 

You slowly open your eyes and gaze back up at him. “Why?” 

“Does a man need a reason to take a lovely woman out to dinner?” 

“I--lovely,” you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief. “You think I’m--” 

“Lovely,” Ignis reiterates. “Should I not think so?” 

“No, I mean, no, you’re--free to think what you want, I just, I--” 

“Darling,” says Ignis, stepping close to you and taking your round chin between his fingers, tilting your head up. “Surely you cannot think you’ve been subtle all this time.” 

You feel your face run hot as Ignis holds you captive in his hands. “I...probably not,” you mutter, flicking your eyes downward. “Sorry if I...made things awkward for you, or...” 

“Nonsense,” Ignis purrs. “I’ve found it quite exhilarating these last few years. It’s not often I meet someone who looks at me like I’ve hung the moon.” 

_Hoo_ _boy, he wasn’t kidding about being obvious._ “That bad, huh?” you chuckle. 

“That bad,” says Ignis gently. “But perhaps now, you’ll allow me to make up for lost time?” 

You flick your gaze back up to his—his face is now just inches away, and your heart is pounding wildly. “Uh,” you say again. _Why is it that this man steals away all of your rational thought?_ “Yes? To...that? And to...everything?” 

Ignis snorts adorably. “Patience, love. There’s time yet for _everything_.” 

Gods, you hope that means what you think it means. 

“Dinner first,” says Ignis. 

“Right,” you breathe. “Uh. Can you kiss me now, or...?” 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Ignis whispers as he ghosts his full, perfect lips over yours. 

It’s slow at first, just a gentle press of the mouth—but then Ignis’ hand snakes up to cup the back of your neck, and you’re gone. You go limp in his arms, opening your mouth to moan quietly, and the older advisor slides his tongue in, letting himself explore. You grip his narrow hips in your chubby hands, and this time it’s _Ignis’_ turn to moan. The sound is lodged in the primal part of your brain forever. 

Ignis pulls away, hand still tangled in your short hair and headband. His glasses are fogged, and his mouth is red and kiss-swollen, lips slick with spit. _Your_ spit, mixed with his own. 

It’s almost too much to take. 

“We’d best hurry to dinner,” Ignis says, voice almost pained. “If we stay here any longer, I might...” 

You clear your throat. “We could, uh. Do dinner...after?” You throw a goofy wink his way. 

Ignis snaps. He bends and lifts you up bridal-style, carrying you to the Citadel showers. Dinner can wait. Ignis is hungry _now_ , and he’s decided that you’re the main course. 


End file.
